Calendar Girl
by MyMidnightLove
Summary: When Roxas goes missing, Axel is the only one who knows where to find him. Two-shot for AkuRoky day. COMPLETE. Rated for language and smoking.
1. Chapter 1

**So, I wrote this a while back, but just posted it to livejournal today in honor of AkuRoku day. It's a two-shot. It's posted to my lj thatnobodygrrl, and also the the community on lj axelxroxas. Check it out?**

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One forty seven in the morning, and I'm out of bed, putting my pants on, and rubbing sleep out of my eyes

One forty seven in the morning, and I'm out of bed, putting my pants on, and rubbing sleep out of my eyes. Why, you ask? Well, because someone's knocking on the door of my shitty little apartment, and doesn't seem to want to give up. So yes, I'm opening the door at one forty seven in the morning, and chances are it's Demyx, looking for a place to crash, yet _again_. I love the kid to death, but it's like he doesn't know how to show up at a respectable hour.

So when I open the door – shirtless, might I add – expecting Demyx, you can't blame me for yelling 'Fuck!' and practically falling over when I see some lady in hysterics with a police officer behind her. I'm not a criminal or anything, but I'm a twenty one year old living in a total shithole. Yes, I've got one or two reasons to fear the cops at my door.

The sobbing lady lunges forward and grabs me by the shoulders before I even have time to say anything. The officer makes a motion to try and pull her off me, but she swats him away. I recognize her now, and I'm overcome with an urge to shove her off me and slam the door in her face. And I would have done it too, if not for what she said next.

"He's gone! Roxas… he's… my baby… he's gone!" She bursts into a fresh round of tears, and my heart stops.

It doesn't restart again until she starts weakly hitting my chest with her balled-up fists. "Give… give him back." She mutters. "GIVE HIM BACK!"

Alright, so freeze-frame for a second, and let me tell you what I know. Roxas used to be my boyfriend, until his mom, the hysterical lady currently intent on waking up the whole building, forbid him to see me. The kid was only seventeen, and she said I was a dirty, gay, pedophile-rapist or something like that. She hates me, and I haven't seen Roxas since. That was two months ago.

So anyway, hit 'PLAY' again, and this lady is still screaming at me to "give him back", and I can only assume she means Roxas.

I pull her off me. Even at this hour of the day, I'm stronger than a hysterical woman. Not to mention that the very act of her saying his name jolted me completely awake. I look her straight in the eye. "Look, lady, I don't have Ro… your kid." She just looks at me blankly.

"'Calendar Girl'." She says. Man, this lady is just _crazy_! I have no clue where she's trying to go with any of this, and it's way too early for crazy shit like this to be happening to me anyway. I need a smoke.

So I tell her so. I tell her "Hold on, I need a smoke." And she just gives me this look like I slapped her in the face or something. We're both quiet for a few seconds, then she snaps again. "My son, my _only son_ is _missing_, and all you can think about is _smoking_? That's _it_?!"

Woah.

Something kinda just… clicked in my head when she said that. My mouth got all dried up, and my chest felt really constricted. Like I couldn't _breathe_, or _swallow_. "He's missing?" I whisper. She nods slowly, as if she were just realizing it too. Dazed silence.

She's pushed me back into my apartment by now, but the cop is still standing outside the doorway. I motion for them to come in and sit at the scratched up card table I call a dinning table. They guy looks around once or twice, but the lady just flops into the folding chair like a broken rag-doll. I grab the lighter and packet of cigarettes off the counter, lighting up before dropping them on the table. I have to stand, because I only have two chairs.

So there we are, me and my ex-boyfriend's mother who hates me smoking, sitting in silence with an uncomfortable-looking armed officer when I remember something she said. "'Calendar Girl'?" I ask. She nods, digging into her pocket and pulling out a carefully folded piece of notebook paper. Written on it in all-too familiar handwriting are the words 'Calendar Girl'. That's it. "This is all?" She nods. "That's all he left me."

It sounds vaguely familiar to me, but I can't place it. Like when you've got a word _right_ on the tip of your tongue, but you just don't know what it is. "Do you know what it means?" I shake my head 'no'. She looks disappointed. We sit in silence a few minutes longer.

"Why'd you come to me? I mean, why not one of his other friends? Hayner, Pence…" I trail off. She looks at me, straight in the eyes. It's creepy. "Because he talks about you. He talks about you all the time, and he hasn't talked the same way to me since…" She trails off, but we both know what she means to say. "Oh." My head hurts… my chest hurts. I thought he'd forget about me.

So with the renewed sense of determination of a guy who just found out the ex-boyfriend he's been pinning over still missed him and was in need of his help, Axel resumed thinking about the note. 'Calendar Girl'… 'Calendar Girl'! "Wait right here." He told his two "guests" as he ran into the next room.

He came out with a cardboard box so full it looked like it was going to fall apart very soon. With an "umph", he dropped the box on the table, not caring about the lighter or cigarettes underneath it. He got a confused look from the mother, and answered her unspoken question. "It's my Roxas-box."

He didn't notice the startled look on either her or the cop's face, because of the pain in his chest. Just saying the kid's name physically hurt him. "Yeah. Anyway, that 'Calendar Girl' thing sounds oddly familiar." She nodded.

Axel began looking through the box for clues. Movie stubs, bus tickets, books, CD's, comic books… he skimmed book summaries, read track names, tried to remember things about plotless films they had seen together… Looking at all the items he had collected just made him want to curl up in a ball and scream, or cry, or do _any_thing but continue this masochistic search, but he persisted. He didn't find anything until he was almost at the bottom.

"Yes!" Everyone looked at him in shock. In his hands, he held a CD: 'Set Yourself On Fire', by Stars. "It's that CD of fairy-music he gave me once. Never my thing you see, but he was trying to convince me…" He stopped talking when he saw the looks he was getting. Instead, he just handed the lady the CD.

1. Your Ex-Lover Is Dead

2. Set Yourself On Fire

3. Ageless Beauty

4. Reunion

5. The Big Fight

6. What I'm Trying To Say

7. One More Night(Your Ex-Lover Remains Dead)

8. Sleep Tonight

9. The First Five Times

10. He Lied About Death

11. Celebration Guns

12. Soft Revolution

**13. Calendar Girl**

She handed the CD back to him with an expectant look on her face, and he dug his laptop out from under a heap of dirty laundry. The time it took to boot-up and load the CD passed by agonizingly slowly, but soon Amy Millan's voice flooded the space.

_If I am lost for a day; try to find me  
But if I don't come back, then I won't look behind me  
All of the things that I thought were so easy  
Just got harder and harder each day  
December is darkest and June is the light_

_But this empty bedroom won't make anything right  
While out on the landing a friend I forgot to send home  
Who waits up for me all through the night._

When the first verse finished, Axel hit the space bar to pause the music. The kid's mom wasn't the only one about to cry. You have to wait forty-eight hours before filing a missing persons report with the police, don't you?

He broke the silence. "How long?" She thinks, checks her watch, thinks again. "Eleven and a half hours." I look at her, slightly confused, and wondering when the whole forty eight-hour policy had gone out of style. She seemed to understand. "This is Adam, my neighbor. He insisted on coming with me for… safety reasons." Adam, as I now knew he was called, gave me a hard look. I see, I thought to myself. She's afraid or me or something, so she brought muscle-head to keep me in line. My dislike for her grows. I put the music back on.

_Calendar girl who's in love with the world Stay alive  
Calendar Girl who's in love with the world Stay alive  
I dreamed I was dying; as I so often do  
And when I awoke I was sure it was true  
I ran to the window; threw my head to the sky  
And said whoever is up there, please don't let me die.  
But I can't live forever, I can't always be  
One day I'll be sand on a beach by a sea  
The pages keep turning, I'll mark off each day with a cross  
And I'll laugh about all that we've lost._

The song continues on in the background, but we start talking over it. This time it's the cop who speaks first. He's looking at me: "What do you think it means?" Well, that's the million-dollar question, isn't it? Through the whole song, I've been picking up on things, and stringing them together. Nothing definite though.

"Hear me out until the end, okay?" They both nod. "I think…" I take a deep breath. "I think Roxas is gone because he's trying to get over… me." She opens her mouth to speak, but I speak sooner. "I think he thought it would be easier to forget me than it turned out to be," Yeah, that's what I thought too, kid. "And I think he wants you to know he'll be okay. Like, he's not going to kill himself or anything stupid like that." The officer's face darkens, but hers looks as though a huge weight was just taken off her shoulders.

"They mentioned the beach in the song." She says. "Do you think he's there?" No, no I don't. "Maybe." I shrug. "I'll go there now." I just nod. I'm extremely relieved to see her and her burly friend walk out and rive off.

As soon as I lose sight of their taillights, I slump down on the floor and let out a huge breath I didn't know I was holding. It's just a little past two a.m., and I'm just wondering _how_. _the_. _fuck_. I got dragged into something like this already. And what his mom had said about… about him missing me. About him talking about me. God, did I ever miss that kid.

I collected myself as quickly as I could; I hate being a blubbery mess. Not that I cried, mind you. No, I didn't cry. But I was about to.

I put on some decent pants, and grabbed a shirt out of the Roxas-box. Taking the CD with me, I set out to go find the kid. "I'm coming for you, Roxas." I whispered into the darkness.

I sat in my car, thinking about where I was most likely to find him, playing the song on repeat, and sniffing the musty box-scent of my fairly neglected Foo Fighters T-shirt. The song talked about the beach. Well, that ruled out the actual beach, towards which his mother was now speeding. Too obvious.

So then I started thinking about everything he had ever told me about the beach. He loved it there. I can't count the number of times I brought him… There were probably only two places he liked more. Well, it used to be three. The clock tower, his grandparent's place in France, and my apartment. _Be sand on a beach by the sea._ I decide that these are my best bets. Now, I can rule off one, _maybe_ two of them, because I know he's not at _my_ place, and I don't see how he could manage to get to France without anyone finding out. Then again, he was a pretty damn clever kid.

Clock tower. It's this huge clock in the center of town, and the two of us used hang out up there a lot. He liked the view. It was pretty amazing. You could see the whole town, the tram making its never-ending rounds, all the way up to the water he so loved. The sunsets were pretty breathtaking too.

I drive way too fast through the small streets to get there, and when I do, I leave my car – still idling – "parked" on the sidewalk. My lungs are burning 'cause I'm a smoker, and smokers were never meant to sprint up so many stairs, but I keep going. I just have this feeling like he'll be up there. I'm not thinking about what I'll do if I find him or what I'll say, I'm just concentrated on getting there, and getting the kid.

When I got up there and realized he wasn't there, I was just about ready to fling myself off that fucking tower.

Honestly, you have _no_. _clue_. how it felt to realize he wasn't actually there. I was _so_ sure he'd be there. Just… I wanted to lie down and not get back up. I wanted to give up.

And then it started to rain.

Oh yeah, that was the icing on top of the cake. So who can blame me? I gave up. I got in the car and headed towards home. That boy had broken my heart one too many times, and at the time, it didn't look like he _wanted_ me to find him. Fine by me.

It was pouring, and I wondered briefly how his mom was doing out on the beach with muscle-head Adam, or if maybe she had given up on him too. In the time it takes to get from parking lot to door, I'm drenched.

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**Please review?  
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	2. Chapter 2

**So here's the second chapter.**

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_It was pouring, and I wondered briefly how his mom was doing out on the beach with muscle-head Adam, or if maybe she's given up on him too. In the time it takes to get from parking lot to door, I'm drenched._

So I'm pushing open the door to my apartment, which I apparently forgot to lock in my haste to get out, when I hear some kind of noise inside. I don't see any odd cars in the lot, so either Demyx actually _did_ show up, or someone from the building broke in. Wouldn't really surprise me; this place is filled with whack jobs.

I feel pretty safe going in. I'm strong enough, and my umbrella's leaning on the wall right next to the door. If need be, I have that as a weapon. Call me reckless.

Well… nothing could have prepared me for this.

He's sitting on my fucking couch. Roxas. He's just… _there_! As if nothing had ever happened. As if this was just any one of those days when he'd come over unannounced. Like… nothing had ever changed between us.

"You kept all the stuff." He says calmly, motioning towards the empty box surrounded by its former contents. I don't even know what to say to that. He's actually… here. Right. Here.

"R… Roxas." I whisper, still not sure if this is all entirely real. If it isn't, then I'd sure as hell like to live in the dream a bit longer.

You know… for the first time in a long time, it's not hurting me to say that name.

"Roxas. Roxas, Roxas, Roxas, Roxas…" I repeat it over and over again, like a mantra. He just gives me a bemused little smirk. _God_. I missed him.

He comes over and kisses me, and my eyes fall shut and my fingers snake into his hair, and I'm just pulling him closer, closer, closer, because this is _real_. Real.

"Missed me?" He whispers, out foreheads pressed together. I don't even know how to answer that. I remember every agonizing second of my two months sans-Roxas all too well. "Only if you did." I whisper back. He looks at my eyes and knows what I mean, because the next kiss is like an apology.

"Calendar girl?" I ask the next time he pulls back. He smiles. "You found me, didn't you?" I swallow the growing lump in my throat as I think about how I found him after abandoning my search. "You left too quickly though. I was waiting for my mom to leave, but you were gone before I could even climb all the stairs up to this dump." He flops back down on my ancient couch and sighs. "Man, I missed it here."

For some reason, this makes me thing of his mother, and I frown. "Call your mom. She's probably still combing the beach for you." I toss my cell phone at him. He looks angry, betrayed. Like he wasn't expecting me to say any of that. Probably wasn't. "What?" I ask. "Did you honestly think I'd keep you here and leave your poor mother to think she drove off her only son?" He scowls. "She did." Man, I even missed that naïve, childish behavior of his.

"Don't care. Call." I join him on the couch, and he leans against me, looking at my phone with hatred. I grab it from him and dial. I had him put his mom's cell number in my phone, so I'd be able to screen her angry hate calls telling me to bring her kid home. He looks at me in disbelief. "If you don't tell her, I will." I threaten.

He looks really panicked. I feel back doing this to him, but had his mom found out first, I would have wanted her to call me. I doubt she would have, but it's always worth trying to be the better person. When he hears the ringing noise, he actually tries to bolt, but I'm faster than him, and stronger too. I've got him pinned in my lap with my arms wrapped around his waist, phone balancing in the crook of my neck.

"Hello? Yes, it's Axel. He's here." Roxas blanched and went still when she said she would be right over. I hung up, and Roxas looked up at me pleadingly, begging me with his eyes to do something. This time, it's my turn to give the apology kiss. He rejects it by turning his face sideways, and giving me a mouthful of hair.

"Why'd you leave?" I asked. I had to know. "I missed you, you jerk." My heart skips a beat. "You're almost eighteen. Couldn't you have waited?" That had been bugging me. "No." He says simply. I give him a little squeeze-hug to show my appreciation. "She was sending me to college in Radiant Garden." He adds. My heart plummets to my stomach, and for a moment, I regret having called his mother.

He's looking up at me again, like he's trying to tell me that there's still time to run. But there isn't, and I know that. He does too. I hold him tight, and kiss the top of his head. Don't worry." I whisper into his hair. "Don't worry." I wish I was more convinced myself. "Yeah." He whispers back.

"God, this is one hell of a day, huh?" I check my watch. "And it's not even three a.m. yet." I shove him off me, and he falls sideways on the cushions. "I need a smoke." I offer in way of excuse. He pouts. Fucking adorable. My cigarettes and lighter are still under the mostly emptied Roxas-box. I put all the stuff back in, then drop it to the floor.

I light up and head back to the couch, and Roxas gives me this look that I've so missed. I know exactly what he wants. Taking a deep drag of my cigarette, I hold it far enough away from me for him to lean in and kiss me. He always had a thing for getting shotguns, and I wasn't averse to giving them. Not to him, anyway. We leaned back and just sat there quietly, waiting for whatever was coming.

I almost inhaled a mouthful of smoke when I heard the manic knocking on my door.

Roxas looked at me, I looked at him. We shared a brief kiss, then I got up to open the door. He stayed where he was. When I opened the door and she saw him just sitting there all nonchalant and what, she reacted kinda like I did. She just stood there, staring at him. Much quicker recovery time than mine though.

"Roxas! Oh my God, Roxas! My baby!" She ran forward and hugged him so hard I'm pretty sure I heard some of his bones snap. She was about as hysterical as she had been when she first showed up at my door.

She finally let him go, and held him at arms length from herself, inspecting him. She frowned. "You smell like smoke." She turns an angry glare in my direction. Jeez, thanks for the gratitude, lady. Roxas just shrugs. "Shotgun." Her eyes go wide, like she's coming up with all the worst-case scenarios for what that could mean.

She grabs his hand, sends one more nasty look my way, and starts pulling him towards the door. He resists, digging his heels into my dirty, threadbare carpet. "No." He says simply. She turns, looking at him in disbelief. I kind of pity her, actually. She honestly didn't seem to get why he wouldn't want to go. This must be tough on her.

"Rox…" The name dies in her throat. "No." He repeats, more forceful this time. He pulls his hand away from her. She looks to be on the verge of tears again. He takes a step back and grabs my hand. I have no clue where he's going with this. "I'm staying here, mom." He says. That sends her over the edge, crying all over again.

"Roxas… why?" She pleads, grabbing his other hand with hers, and pressing it against her cheek. His stern face falters for a moment, and I wonder how much longer he can keep doing this to her. Breaking her heart, I mean. I know firsthand that he's pretty damn good at it, and that it's fucking painful. He squeezes my hand, and I squeeze back. "I'm sorry, Mom." He says gently, but he doesn't sound like he means it.

She steps closer, hugging him desperately. He doesn't drop my hand, but his other arm slowly wraps around her back. She sobs into his shoulder. "Please," She chokes out. "Don't do this. Just come home, Roxas." He lifts her away from him slowly, looking her straight in the eye. "You did this. _We_ did this." She looks at him, completely broken now.

I need to do something.

"Go with her, Rox." The two of them turn on me. One wears a mixed look of surprise, confusion, and gratitude, the other a mask of pain, betrayal, and hurt. "We'll go back to how things used to be." I squeeze his hand.

He doesn't squeeze back.

I step forward and hold him close to me, my chin resting on the crown of his head. His mother steps back and stares at us. "It's okay, Rox. Don't worry. I'll always be here for you, but you can't do this to her. She's your mom. There's always space for you here, you _know_ that, but I can share." He relaxes a little against me. "You can stay here a few days to cool off, how's that?" He stiffens again, then relaxes. "You have the key to this dump, come over whenever for however long. Open invite, but you can't not go home, Rox. It's still your family." I look him in the eyes now. "How's that?" He swallows heavily and nods.

I step back, and he hugs his mom, placing a quick kiss on her tear-stained cheek. "I'll come back." He promises. She nods, and walks off without another word. I don't think she has any words left in her.

The silence stretches between us, but it's not an angry silence, or an uncomfortable one. It's soft. It's natural. I break it with a heavy yawn.

"Dammit Rox, it's three a.m. I'm going to bed. Join or not, but keep quiet about it, would you?" I shoot him a smile, because he knows I'm not angry. Just sleepy. He smiles back, taking my hand and joining me. This is how it's supposed to be, I think. This is right.

There was a bag with clothes for him and a toothbrush in it at my door by the time we woke up.

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